The False Inspector Dew

There was a slight hesitation at the other end, then: 'I want to speak to you about your husband.'

'Who are you?' said Lydia.

'Someone who cares what happens to him.'

'What do you mean? You'd better tell me who you are.'

'Never mind that, Mrs Baranov. I want to appeal to you as one woman to another to treat him fairly. He doesn't want to go to America with you. He's happy here. You've treated him generously in the past. I wouldn't ask this if you loved each other, but you know that isn't so. Please be generous again and let him remain in England with the one who does love him.'

'What? I don't know who you are, but I think you must be mad. You're not that nurse of his, are you?' Lydia pressed the instrument harder to her ear. Before she hung it up, she wanted to be certain who this woman was. There was something in the voice that sounded familiar.

'I appeal to you, Mrs Baranov. Let him have his freedom.'

'This is utterly ridiculous.'

'I'm trying to be reasonable, for all our sakes. God knows, I love your husband.'

'He's never mentioned you. Are you claiming to be his lover?'

'If you wish. Would you agree to a divorce?'

Lydia began to laugh. 'My dear, whoever you are, and I've got my suspicions, you've gone a bit too far. I know my husband. He wouldn't know what a mistress is, let alone what to do with one. So own up, and let's both enjoy the joke.'

'It is not a joke. You wouldn't know my name if I told you. You'd better ask Walter. He can decide how much to tell you. But don't under-estimate him, Mrs Baranov. And don't think you've heard the last from me.' The line went dead.

Lydia sat by the telephone for a long interval. She was trembling. She got up and went to the cocktail cabinet and poured herself a brandy. She drank it at a draught.

She said, 'You animal, Walter. You stupid, rampant beast!'

17

Alma said goodnight to Mrs Maxwell and unfastened her umbrella. It was a sudden downpour that might last only a few minutes, but she did not propose to stand in the entrance to the shop a moment longer than was necessary. She wanted to get home and see whether her prayers were answered and a message was waiting on the mat, or the telephone was ringing as she opened the door. Neither was to happen.

She took two steps and her arm was taken and the umbrella snatched from her hand. Without a word, Walter hustled her across the pavement into a taxi and got in beside her. His clothes were saturated. Alma pressed close to him and kissed him on the cheek. It was cold.

She said, 'I thought we wouldn't see each other again.'

'You're getting wet.' He took off his raincoat and hat and let her come close again. This time she kissed him on the lips. She was intensely happy. His hand grasped the back of her neck and loosened her hair. He said, i'm supposed to be reprimanding you for telephoning my wife.'

'I had to think of something. Are you angry with me?'

'I ought to be. It's no good, you know. She wouldn't give me a divorce.' He gave a low chuckle. 'But it's a terrible shock to Lydia to be told I have a lover.'

Alma pressed closer to him. 'Am I really your lover?'

'There's a teashop at the foot of the Hill. Shall we stop there?'

The rain had already eased as they got out of the taxi. The shop was full of people escaping the shower, but someone got up to leave. The table was in a quiet position shielded by the coat-stand. Walter told Alma that Lydia had renounced her promise to let him practise dentistry in America. She wanted him to act as her agent.

She felt the blood drain from her face, is that because of me?'

He reached across the table and put his hand over hers. 'No, my dear. She announced this over breakfast. And she has sold the practice and I won't get a penny from the proceeds.'

Alma shook her head slowly, but she said nothing. She knew intuitively that Walter was on the point of saying something momentous.

He still held her hand, i have decided not to go to America.'

'Walter, my darling!'

'It's ruinous, of course, but I'll manage somehow.'

'We'll manage together.'

'No. I thank you, but I couldn't do that. I couldn't allow myself to subject you to gossip and scandal.'

'I don't care a jot about my reputation. I love you!'

He stared down at his tea.

Alma decided that this was the moment to mention the plan she had conceived as she lay sleepless at home in the small hours of the morning. It would sound outrageous, spoken coldly like this in a public teashop, but when otherwise could she tell him? She pitched her voice low. 'There could be another way.'

'Hm?' He did not look up.

'Once, in the surgery, you talked to me about someone else who was treated unbearably badly by his wife, and who fell in love with another woman who cared deeply and passionately about him.'

He looked up and regarded her innocently, i don't seem to recall this.'

'Dr Crippen.'

'Oh.'He gave a jolt.

Before he could stop her, Alma said, 'They were caught because they tried to disguise themselves. They tried to escape across the ocean on a small steamship and the captain was suspicious.'

'Crippen was a murderer.'

Alma brushed that aside. 'You told me Lydia has booked your passages on the Mauretania.'

'Yes, but I'm not going now.'

'Just suppose for a moment that you did go, not with Lydia, but with me. I would travel as Mrs Baranov. It wouldn't be a difficult part to play, darling. No-one would suspect us, because no-one would know any different. We would be in America in six days and live there for ever as man and wife!'

'But what about Lydia?'

'Chloroform.'

'I think I need a cigar.' He put one in his mouth and broke two matches trying to light it. 'Are you serious about this?'

'Absolutely.'

'I couldn't do it — not even to Lydia.'

'You can. You're very brave. You saved your father from drowning.'

He managed to smile. 'It isn't exactly the same thing.'

'Please don't laugh at me. This isn't some absurd idea that just occurred to me. I've been planning it for days. Don't you see? By booking for the voyage already, Lydia has given us the chance to succeed where Dr Crippen and his Ethel failed.'

A voice asked, 'Did you want some more hot water, dears?'

They both looked up at the waitress. Her face showed only the weariness of a long day at work.

'No, thank you,' said Walter. He paid for the teas and they left the shop.

The sun was shining thinly.

'They were caught because Inspector Dew found the remains of Mrs Crippen under the floor in the cellar,' said Walter.

'There is another thing,' said Alma, ignoring Walter's observation as they walked up the Hill together. 'If I take Lydia's place, I can copy her signature. I can write you a cheque for the sale of your practice. I can write any number of cheques. We can live in style and you can be the most successful dentist in America.'

'Using Lydia's money?'

'It would be criminal not to use it, darling,' said Alma, and she squeezed his arm.

'That's clever.' He smiled. 'That really is rather clever.'

'I shall have to use her passport, but that ought to be all right. We're about the same height and we both have brown eyes. She's darker than I am, but you couldn't tell from a photograph. Nobody looks like their passport photograph anyway. And you'll be there to vouch for me.'

'There must be a flaw in this.'

'Darling, there isn't. If we give Lydia the chloroform the night before we sail, none of her friends will miss her. She'll have signed the papers for the solicitor. The bank will have transferred her money to America. We simply step aboard that liner and start our new life together. Our honeymoon.'